Of Mice and Men and Monsters
by BonanzaRocks
Summary: At sixteen, Sam vanished. But that was four years ago. Four years that Sam is all too ready to forget, but in order to put the past behind him he'll need the help of his father and brother.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Sam dropped to h is knees with a sigh, ignoring the pain that shot through his legs. After a moment of hesitation he started to speak.

"Ok. If you're up there, I need some answers. By the way, I'm sorry it's been a while."

He shifted his weight and cleared his throat before beginning again.

"I'm not sure where to find my family and I'm not sure if I want to or not…so if you could help me out with a decision that would be great….amen."

Sam opened his eyes and gazed around the empty motel room. It seemed like it had been ages since he was last occupying a dumpy room under a false name. And even though it had been four years, he remembered his last night with his dad and brother clear as day. He was sixteen and trying to finish a paper due the next day. His dad was cleaning his guns and Dean as being a jerk and refusing to turn down the TV.

He had thought of that night thousands of times and had wished more than anything to go back to it so he could change the events of the following day.

As Sam rose from his prayer he heard something. Something surprisingly familiar. It was the growl of a '67 Chevy Impala. To verify what he heard Sam stepped to the window and drew back the curtain just far enough to reveal the shiny car he once called home. Sam watched in awe as two men exited the car and made their way to the room next door.

"That was scary fast," Sam whispered, his eyes heavenward.


	2. Together Again

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters or anything.**

Dean sat on the edge of his lumpy motel bed as he waited for his dad to finish washing out the cuts on his face. Within a few moments John had vacated the bathroom and Dean was able to begin cleaning the large wound in his side.

"If you would have fired just a second sooner you could have saved yourself a world of pain," John was just about to lie down when there was a knock on the door. Dean shut off the faucet and turned, armed and ready for whoever or whatever came through that door. John slowly unlocked the door and inched it open. He stared at the young man on the doorstep and couldn't believe his eyes. Before he even knew what he was doing the door was swung open and the young man was caught in a John Winchester bear hug from which there was no escaping.

Tears flowed freely as Sam sank into his fathers embrace. A few tears were shed due to the pain the tight squeeze caused his sore and tired body. But mostly, he cried because he didn't think this moment would ever be a reality.

Finally, John eased up and pulled his son into the room. Silence permeated the air as the small family basked in the miracle of the reunion. Sam couldn't believe how little his father had changed, a few more wrinkle lines here and there but not much else differed. Dean also looked much the same, just a bit thicker , but he was the same Dean. The only real change was that Sam now stood eye to eye with them both.

"You're bleeding," Sam said suddenly. He hurried to Dean's side and grabbed the wet towel from his brothers hand. Before Sam had a chance to tend to Deans would he was caught up in his brothers arms.

"Sammy."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"So he just died?" Dean asked for the second time.

"Yeah, I think it was a heart attack or stroke or something like that" Sam shifted a bit and cast his droopy eyes to the ground, "And then as soon as I knew he was cold I made a run for it."

"How did you find us so fast?" John asked, impressed by his sons tracking skills.

"Actually," Sam paused for a yawn, "I didn't really. I just prayed," another yawn, "and you showed up."

"So-" Deans question was cut off by Johns declaration.

"He's exhausted."

Sam yawned yet again, almost in acknowledgement of his fathers statement.

"Do you wanna hit the shower first or go straight to bed?"

"I think a shower would do me good," Sam knew his stench was pretty rancid and he would sleep better nice and clean.

"I'm assuming you don't have anything clean. Dean grab your brother some clothes."

Dean rifled through his duffle and pulled out sweats and a shirt.

"Um. Do you have anything with long sleeves? It's kind of cold." Sam really didn't want to sound picky but he also didn't want his forearms exposed.

Dean shifted through his bag again and pulled out a long sleeved shirt.

"Thanks," Sam gave his older brother a smile and headed into the bathroom. It wasn't until 45 minutes later that Sam emerged from the little room, steam rushing out as he opened the door. It had been four years since he'd last taken a hot shower and he had forgotten how much he missed them.

Dean and John prepared for bed quickly and soon three grown men were staring at two queen sized beds.

"I'll take the couch," Sam said. Even a dirty motel couch was luxury compared to what he was used to.

"There's no way that's happening," Dean grabbed a pillow and went to the couch.

Sam looked to John who shrugged his shoulders and said, "looks like it's settled."

Sam gently scooted beneath the covers and fell into a deep, much needed sleep. But it didn't last for long.

"Sam! Sam!... Sammy wake up!" John shook his son maybe a little too aggressively as he struggled to wake the screaming boy.

"SAM!"

Sam's eyes shot open and in a moment of panic he grabbed John's neck, rolled off the bed, and tackled him to the ground. Stunned by the action Sam had taken, John lay on he ground looking up into Sam's confused eyes. After a few seconds, Sam released his father from his death grip.

John sat up slowly and watched as his son regained awareness. Dean stood at the foot of the bed looking on and feeling totally useless. Sam's breathing slowed and finally he was able to whisper.

"Sorry" he said as he pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize son," John slowly rose to his feet and extended a hand down to help Sam up. "You just get back to bed and don't worry, you're safe now."

The three men returned to bed but not one of them was able to sleep. Sam refused to sleep lest he wake up in a cold sweat again and John and Dean stayed alert just in case. And so a few hours later the dawn welcomed three very tired Winchesters.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Who wants breakfast?" John asked as he put on his shoes.

"I could eat," was Deans reply with a smile.

Sam nodded his head in agreement but then added, "There are a few things I need from my room next door though."

"I'll go with you," Dean blurted. He had wanted to sound casual but his need to be next to his brother at all times was more than obvious. It made Sam smile to see Dean being Sean. Protective, worried, big brother, mamma bear Dean.

John nodded his approval and Sam and Dean went next door. Dean watched as Sam picked up his meager belongings.

"What do you have there?"

"Just some headache pills and a book," Sam said as he pulled the two items out from under a pillow. He handed the book to his brother and pocketed the pills.

"Of Mice and Men?"

"Yeah, I had it in my back pocket when...well, yeah. So, I've read it a few times."

Dean turned the torn and tattered book over in his hands. As he briefly thumbed through the pages he couldn't help noticing bloody finger prints on various dog eared pages. He tried to stop his mind from imagining how that blood was drawn as he handed the book back to Sam.

"Sam, I don't know what really happened to you these past four years. But I know you, and I know when you are lying to me. Maybe you don't remember but I'm your big brother and I taught you how to lie. I obviously failed, but -"

"Dean-"

"No wait. Maybe you have dad fooled. For now. But he's going to keep asking more questions, he's not going to let this drop, and neither am I. I just want you to be honest with me about what really happened," Dean finally took in a breath, "please?"

**Please Review! :)**


	3. Stories

Much to Sam's delight, a gentle knock on the door brought the conversation to an end.

"You boys ready to go?"

Sam turned to start for the door.

"I'm not going to stop digging Sam." Dean's words were tough but his eyes showed a simple need for understanding.

"Yeah…I know."

"What'll ya have?" asked the middle age waitress at Don's Diner.

"I'll take the special. And a coffee, black." John said, closing his menu.

"Same." Dean said with a wink.

The waitress looked to Sam, he had been starring out of the window and was caught off guard by the sudden need to order.

"Same," he said with great speed. The waitress nodded and hustled away.

"You sure you want that Sammy?" Dean asked, giving his brother a perplexed look. "You do know what you just ordered right?"

"Uh," Sam looked down into his lap, "No, but I'm sure it will be great."

Moments later three plates of bacon wrapped hashbrowns and fried eggs arrived.

John and Dean watched as Sam grabbed his fork with ferocity and began shoveling food down.

"Might wanna slow down son," John suggested quietly.

Sam looked up and realized that his father and brother hadn't taken a bite yet. He looked down at his half devoured plate and set his fork down.

"Sorry." He hung his head low. He was acting like such a freak and he hated himself for it.

"No need to apologize son, you must be starving." John had no idea just how true that statement was. "Just didn't want you chokin' on us." He offered his son a small smile and took a bite.

Thirty minutes and lot of awkward silences later the three men stood to leave. Sam had downed three specials, multiple cups of coffee and was taking a breakfast muffin for the road. Dean had done his best to keep up with the kid, not wanting him to feel bad for eating so much, but man that kid could pack it away these days.

"Alright, now for everyone's favorite part of the day," John said, the sarcasm dripping from every word.

***'

"How do they fit?" Dean called over the changing room door.

Sam looked at his reflection in the dressing mirror. The jeans Sam had on were barely hanging around his bony hips.

"Maybe a few sizes smaller." Sam called out, "but the length is good."

Dean had assumed that might be the case and he was already one step ahead of his brother. He tossed another pair of jeans over the door.

"Try these."

After a bit of work the right size was located and a few pairs of jeans were piled in Deans arms.

"Alright," John looked at the little clump of denim, "now for the rest of the necessities."

Boxers, socks, shoes, sweats, shirts, jeans, and a jacket were purchased.

"Thanks dad." Sam said with a little smile and a tinge of guilt in his voice. This was the first time Sam could remember buying clothes new from a store, and a nice store at that. "You didn't have to get all that."

"Yes I did. You needed some new things, it's no problem at all Sam," John smiled back at his son.

"So are we leaving town now?" Sam asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

"We've paid for the next few nights. No need to rush away. Or is there?" John asked raising an eyebrow.

"No…" Sam's eyes wandered, "no, I was just curious."

Later that night, back at the motel, Sam sat on the edge of the bed, knowing his family was staring at him. Waiting to hear more.

"Sam, I know it's hard to talk about, but we do need to hear more about where you've been and what happened," John's eyes held their strong watch on Sam, even though he knew his son wasn't going to look up.

Dean waited in the silence, fighting back the urge to jump into the conversation with all of his questions.

"Were you the only one being held?" John began.

Sam mumbled out a weak, "No."

"Are the others still there?"

"No."

"Where did they run off to?"

Sam exhaled and bit down on his bottom lip, "They…they, didn't."

"How many?" John asked, not really sure if he wanted this answer to this one.

After a few moments Sam finally looked up and into his father's eyes, "I lost count, sir."

All of a sudden Sam's face scrunched in pain. He took a few labored breaths and stood.

"Sammy you ok?" Dean rose and was at his brother's side in an instant.

"I just need a second," Sam took a few steps over to the bathroom, "headache."

Sam closed the door and pulled the pill bottle out of his pocket. With hands shaking he poured out one pill and swallowed it dry. Then splashed a bit of water on his face. A few minutes later he emerged from the bathroom.

"Sorry."

"Sam," John sighed, "How many times do I need to tell you to stop apologizing?"

Dean's eyes were still full of worry, "You ok?"

"Yeah fine, sorry. I mean..yeah."

Sam sat back down and started talking, because he knew that's what they wanted and all he wanted was for them to be happy and stop worrying so much.

"It was all my fault-"

"No, Sammy-"

"Dean, just wait. I need to say this all at once or not at all." Sam looked to his brother and didn't begin again until Dean nodded in agreement.

"It was all my fault, I was angry, and stupid. After that fight we had, I left but I didn't know where to go. So I started walking. After a while a van pulled up and I was too blind to see the danger of the situation. I climbed in and then it went dark. When I woke I didn't know where I was. All I could hear was screaming." Sam paused in his story, it was clear that reliving these memories wasn't a pleasant experience in the least.

"There were cages everywhere." Sam stopped again.

"It's ok Sammy," Dean's voice was low and warm, "you're safe now."

"And you're sure it was just one ordinary man running this place?" John asked, curious about the logistics of it all.

"He was anything but ordinary, but yeah. Just the one creep. Human."

"That's messed up." Dean ran a hand down his face.

"Yeah, well, the rest isn't really worth talking about. The others would come and…go, but there were a few like me who had been around for a while. He said it was because we were… special," Sam cringed.

Dean felt his temperature rising and his blood rushing.

"Eventually, I was the only one left, and then you know the rest."

John sat still soaking in all that his son had told him. He was sure there were many many details that Sam was leaving out. After all, it had been four years. Four years in a cage, apparently.

"And you're sure he's dead?" Dean asked, hoping in some sick way that this barbarian was still alive just so that he could kill him again. Nice and slow.

Sam nodded, "Yeah. He's dead, but…"

"What?" John prodded.

"But I still wouldn't mind if we got out of here. We're still pretty close to, uh, my old place."

"Unnerving?" John asked, already knowing the answer.

The rest of the night was quiet. The three Winchesters were still a bit unsure of how to be normal around each other with the giant elephant in the room.

Dean watched as his little brother took the tags off of his new sweats and wandered into the bathroom for a shower. It was like watching a rerun. He was still in awe of the fact that Sammy was back.

John stepped outside to refill the ice bucket and listen to a few voicemails.

Sam stood in the shower, letting the scalding hot water run down his body. It was a pretty good story he had come up with, at least he thought so. Some of it had been true. There _were_ many others, they were kept in cages, and many had died. But those were about the only true pieces. As much as he hated lying to his father and brother he hating the idea of telling the truth even more.

He didn't want to go stomping through the woods flanked by his family in search of his captors, who definitely weren't human. He didn't want to face those he had left behind, they were probably already dead already anyways. And he didn't want to return to the living hell he had miraculously managed to escape from.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by a loud banging on the bathroom door.

"SAMMY!" Dean's voice rang out clear, "Sammy, get out here now!"

Sam shut off the water and nearly killed himself rushing out of the shower and into his clothes. As soon as he was covered he threw the door open.

Dean was standing with an ice bucket in his hands. He handed the bucket to his brother. Inside was a bloody finger on ice and a note that read: Come collect the rest of your father. We miss you Sammy.


	4. It Begins

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks for the follows/favorites/and Reviews!**

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam couldn't look away.

Why was this happening? Hadn't he suffered enough? Now his family was being dragged into his mess. He should have known better than to join up with his dad and brother.

"Anytime you want to start explaining, I'm ready." Dean couldn't hide the anger in his voice but he was trying. He knew Sam was still fragile.

Silence hung in the air. Dean was about to ask again but Sam spoke up.

"The demons who took me. They aren't dead."

"Yeah," Dean rubbed his tired eyes, "kinda got that. So it's demons we're up against?"

"Yeah. Kind of." Sam continued to stare at the icy finger, "But there're more than your typical demon. It's…complicated."

"Well you're going to have to uncomplicated it for me. Can you talk while we drive?" Dean snatched up the keys to his dad's ride as well as a duffle bag full of weapons.

It was weird riding up front. Usually Sam was in the backseat and it was John behind the wheel.

"So where are we going?" Dean asked, pushing the pedal to the metal.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

It wasn't long before the duo pulled up to an abandoned building out in the middle of nowhere. A rusty sign hung above the doors, "Humane Society"

"This is it?" Dean couldn't help but mentally chuckle at the irony of the situation.

It was all Sam could do to nod an affirmative. He had just escaped this hell hole and now not even 48 hours later, he was back.

Dean could see the tension in his brother's posture and the fear in his eyes.

"We got this Sammy."

Sam turned to his older brother and looked him dead in the eyes, "No. We don't."

The usual front guards weren't in place, so entering the building was a cinch.

"A little quite isn't it?" Dean whispered as they inched down the long hallway. There were no hall guards. Sam's fear was melting into curiosity. Where was everybody? Why couldn't he hear bloodcurdling screams or chains clattering?"

Upon reaching the doors at the end of the hallway, Sam was positive that something was up. There was no demon team blocking the doors to the holding area. Sam stepped in front of his brother and pushed the doors open.

Nothing. The large room before them was completely bare, with the exception of hollow, bloodstained, cages.

"What's going on Sammy?" Dean asked, his weapon still locked and loaded.

As if to answer his question, Dean's eyes rested upon a piece of paper addressed to Sam resting on the ground before him.

Dean opened the paper so the message was visible to both of them.

"You didn't honestly think it would be that easy. Let's try this again Sammy."

As Dean read the second sentence Sam cringed. It was a phrase he had heard thousands of times. Whenever he gave an answer that the demons disapproved of all he got was a simple, "let's try this again Sammy," followed by a tremendous amount of pain.

"Do you know where they went? Where they took dad?"

"No." Sam's mind was spinning. His dad wasn't here, his friends weren't here, his enemies weren't here. The building was empty and yet it was so full. Full of dreadful memories that were piercing his mind and brining back the pain so strong that he began to feel his scars and newer wounds begin to throb. "Can we get out of here?"

As much as Dean wanted to whisk his baby brother away from the bloody prison he knew they needed to do more digging. "Let's get out of here asap, but first let's make sure we gather all the intel we'll need to pick up a trail and find dad."

Sam grimaced and gave a stiff nod.

Thirty minutes later, they hadn't found anything that would help point them in the right direction. There were a few times when Sam had to step away to get a deep breath in order to avoid puking.

"Well," Dean sighed, "I guess we're just wasting time here. Let's go."

Sam started to follow his brother out of the dungeon but stopped as he passed by an all too familiar cage.

"Sam?" Dean asked waiting for his brother to catch up.

Sam didn't answer, he just opened the door to little space he was once confined to, hesitated for a moment and then began to sob. He had tried so hard to hold it together in front of Dean. But this was too much.

Within seconds, Dean was at his brother's side, pulling his Sammy into an embrace.

"It's ok Sammy. We're leaving now. I'm sorry."

Sam tried to catch his breath and stop the tears but it was nearly impossible.

"I'm here Sammy. You're safe. It's gonna be ok. We're going to find dad. I promise."

Sam wiped his cheeks and slowed his breathing but as Dean started to pull him away from the cage door, Sam remained motionless. His eyes were fixed on a metal bar in the cage.

"Wait." Sam managed to whisper.

Dean watched as Sam took in a deep breath and took a step into the cage. He neared a particular bar and then turned back to face Dean.

"Raton." Sam cleared his throat, "Dad's in Raton."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**Sorry this was a bit short. Next one will be longer and we'll get more details on what happened! Please review!**


	5. Claire

**Thank you sooooo much for following/favorites and especially...reviewing! You rock!**

**Hope you like this next chapter. Let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own those dashing Winchesters.**

**mentions of torture in this chapter and most likely in a lot of the chapters to follow...can't remember what I rated this so just a heads up**

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Raton?" Dean stepped inside of the cage and it made his blood boil, thinking of his little brother rotting away, locked up like an animal.

Dean followed his brothers line of sight to the name scratched into one of the bars.

"How do you know this is for us and not just some random town or word?"

"I just know."

_Sam's bloody, bare, chest hit the cement floor with a thud. Claire sat in corner of the cage and watched as her new cellmate raised himself from the ground._

_"Just stay down," she whispered, but to no avail. Sam pushed with all his might and in a short time was up on his feet, nostrils flaring and eyes beating into the demon who stood at the door of his cage._

_The demon smiled and flashed his black eyes, "Enjoy hell."_

_"You won't know the meaning of hell until I'm finished with you."_

_The demon threw his head back and laughed, "Might want to check which side of the bars you're on."_

_Before he could contain himself, a glob of spit went sailing out of his mouth and into the demons eyes. Expecting an immediate punishment Sam flung himself backwards and down to the ground,_

_The demon wasn't laughing anymore, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile as he wiped the spit away, "Don't worry, we'll get to lessons on manners later today. For now…just think about which methods of torture could be inflicted with nothing more than a dull kitchen knife and a staple gun."_

_Claire watched for the new guy's reaction and was surprised when it wasn't fear, terror, or apathy. Instead it was anger. Pure anger._

_The next few hours were spent in silence as Sam paced the cage. He was mapping out as much of the room as he could see through the dim lighting. Finally, after coming to terms with the fact that he would have to wait a bit longer before an escape opportunity would arise, Sam sat down in the corner opposite Claire._

_That was when he realized that there was somebody else in the same cage as him. _

_"Oh. Uh, hey. 'M Sam." _

_There was nothing funny about the situation but Claire couldn't stop herself from letting a little laugh escape, "That was a nice awkward introduction."_

_She ducked her head and tucked a piece of ash blonde hair behind her ear, "Claire."_

"So you think this girl, Claire, left this for us?" Dean asked.

"I'm sure of it."

"Looks like we're going to Raton then."

Sam nodded and waited for his brother to turn and begin walking before he pulled out a pill and popped it into the back of his throat.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Dean couldn't stand it anymore. They had been driving for and hour and a half and Sam hadn't uttered a single word.

"Still thinking about it?"

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

"That place. You've been in a daze since we left."

"Mmh." Sam turned to look his attention to the scenery but Dean knew it wasn't because of the fascinating plant life along the road.

_"How long have you been here?" Sam asked a few minutes following their brief and admittedly awkward introduction._

_"A couple of months… I think," Claire sighed, "after a while you begin to lose track of day, night, week, month, and I'm sure even years."_

_"It's Tuesday night. November second," Sam offered. He watched as Claire did some mental math._

_"A little over three months." Claire smiled and then quickly covered her mouth with a bloody hand._

_Sam nodded and tried to play it cool, act as if he hadn't seen an absence in her front teeth. But his silence made it obvious that he had witnessed her deformity._

_"They told me if I acted up they would make me so ugly that no boy would ever love me…I guess I should have believed them."_

_"No!" Sam almost shouted. "No don't you ever believe a word that comes out of these dirtbags. They're liars."_

_Claire was going to respond but the conversation was interrupted the sound of footsteps drawing near._

_"Sam, right? Look, if it's you they're here for, just take my advice. Do what they say. It makes it a lot easier for you."_

_Sam smiled, he could feel the genuine concern in Claire's voice, but he was a Winchester, and that meant that he couldn't be a demons chew toy._

_"I never was one to take the easy way."_

When Sam snapped back into reality he couldn't believe how much time had passed. He had been gazing out the window and yet hadn't realized that the daylight had faded into darkness.

"We'll stop here for tonight." Dean stated as they pulled into yet another dumpy motel parking lot.

Twenty minutes later they were checked in and lying in bed.

"G'night Sammy."

"Night."

Sam knew it wasn't going to be a good night. He could feel the pressure building in his head. He waited patiently until he heard the steady breathing of a sleeping Dean. Once he was certain that the coast was clear Sam slinked into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light.

Six pills left. Six.

He had tried to pace himself but he was running out fast.

After some internal debate he decided that tonight it wasn't necessary, he could deal with the pain. It wasn't like this was his first encounter with pain, and if he could just make the pills last a little longer then he wouldn't have to go through withdrawals. He never wanted to go through that again.

Sam lowered himself into his bed, but he couldn't help the squeaking mattress.

"S'm?"

Sam remained silent waiting to see if Dean was actually speaking to him or speaking out of a sleepy delirium.

Minutes passed. Yep, sleep talking.

The next morning Dean awoke and found himself in an empty room. He listened for the sound of the shower but heard nothing.

He flung the covers off of his bed and strode to the bathroom.

"Sammy!?"

No answer.

"Sam!"

The door was locked. After a few seconds of pounding, Dean did what any extremely over protective big brother/demon hunter would do. He kicked down the door, and as soon as he did he almost wished that he hadn't. He didn't like what he was seeing. Not at all.

In one swift motion Dean was down at his unconscious brothers side.

Sam was cold to the touch but Dean could see the sweat rolling off of his body.

His brain was in overload as he tried to process what he was seeing. His brothers upper body was exposed and he couldn't even begin to count the scars that consumed nearly every inch of flesh.

"Sam?" his voice was only a whisper now.

Dean scooped up his little, ok maybe not so little anymore, brother and laid him on his bed. Dean tried to stay focused on the current need his brother had but he couldn't stop his mind from wondering about all of the wounds his brother was sporting. Some were faded and had clearly healed years ago, other's had a fresh red ring of infection still lingering around.

Sammy would have some explaining to do when he woke up. All of their lives together, Dean had expected Sam to report any injury to him. Of course, that wasn't always the case but Dean would always find out and get his chance to do his Florence Nightingale thing.

Sam released a weak moan.

"Hey, that's right, c'mon Sammy. Rise and shine." Dean tried to hide the fear in his voice. "You've had enough beauty sleep."

Sam mumbled something inaudible.

"What?" Dean leaned in close to hear his brother.

"Jerk."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	6. Secrets

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for the reviews and follows!

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

_"Shove it," Sam growled as he spit blood out of the corner of his mouth._

_"Wrong answer." A swift punch was delivered to Sam's ribcage._

_"Let's try this again, Sammy," The demon circled Sam._

_"Are you going to help us or not?"_

_Sam remained silent._

_The demon took a sharp blade from off of his tray of torture and brought it to Sam's forearm. After applying a bit of pressure a thin line of blood was drawn from elbow to wrist. The demon then cut into his own palm and squeezed the blood out onto Sam's wound._

_"What are you doing!?"_

_"Oh, Sammy. I'm just finishing what was started years ago." The demon smiled and walked away leaving Sam bound and bleeding in an empty room. Before closing the door behind him he turned and added, "You know, I'm kind of glad that you are choosing the hard way. It's more fun."_

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Thirsty." Sam managed to whisper, and as soon as he did Dean was up and on his way to the bathroom to get his brother a drink.

Knowing this would be Dean's immediate response, Sam rolled up and reached for a long sleeve shirt in his duffle on the edge of his bed. He pulled it over his head just as Dean returned with the water.

"Sammy! Just stay down, relax." Dean handed his brother the glass and watched intently as his brother took a few sips.

"Thanks."

They sat in a silence, both having so much to say but not wanting to say it.

"I don't know what happened in there. But I'm fine Dean, I promise."

"Fine? Sammy," Dean took the glass from his brother's hand and set it on the nightstand, "Are you going to pretend I didn't see what I just saw?"

"I just got a little dizzy."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"I know." Sam lowered his head allowing his long hair to fall into place nearly covering his eyes.

"But not now Dean, we need to focus on finding Dad. After he's safe we'll have plenty of time to talk about…whatever."

"It's not just 'whatever' Sam, I need to know you're ok."

"I'm ok!" Sam nudged Dean in an attempt to swing his legs off of the bed.

Dean moved out of the way and watched as Sam stood and started zipping up his duffle.

"Now can we get out of here?" Sam threw the straps over his shoulder. It stung a bit as the bag hit one of his fresher wounds but he made an effort to show no signs of pain.

"Some of those marks looked pretty raw."

Sam made his way to the door.

"I'm fine."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Time seemed to drag on and on as the brothers sped down the highway in silence. Finally, Dean couldn't take it any longer.

"Any clue as to where in Raton dad could be?" Dean asked, for no other reason than to attempt a conversation.

Sam shrugged, offering no suggestions. His headache was getting worse and worse but he didn't want to pop a pill in front of his brother. Just as he was about to pull himself out his stubborn silence to ask about a rest stop they passed a sign telling them they were only 10 miles away from their destination. He could wait ten more miles.

The Impala rolled to a stop in yet another motel parking lot.

"I'll grab the room." Sam informed his brother as they came to a stop.

"Wait," Dean pleaded with a bit too much eagerness in his voice, "I'll come with you."

Sam wasn't sure if he was annoyed or comforted by his brother's separation issues. It had been so long since he'd dealt with it, and to be honest it had usually been the other way around.

Together they got a room. Together they started researching possible hide-outs for the vengeful demons. Together they decided food would help.

"Don't worry Dean. I'll keep the door locked and only open on your knock."

Dean smiled a bit as he remembered the knock he used to use to signal a safe return to Sammy. It had been ages since he'd used it.

"Just come with me man, we could both use some fresh air." Dean already knew just by the look on Sam's face that he wasn't leaving the room.

"It's faster this way. Just grab whatever and I'll keep searching. We gotta find Dad before…" Sam cast his eyes down to the ground.

"We'll find him." Dean threw on his jacket, "I'll be back in ten. Don't go anywhere, don't open the door, and – "

"Dean. Go." Sam couldn't help smiling as he watched his worried older brother leave for a food run. As soon as the door closed Sam was up and sifting through his duffle. After a few seconds of searching he was starting to panic a little. He had packed the pills hadn't he? Where were they? His personal effects where scattered on the bed but the pills were no where in sight.

"It's ok. I'll be fine." Sam said aloud to calm his nerves.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam glanced at the dusty clock again. It had only been four minutes? That clock must be broken.

He reached for the flimsy paperback on the bed. He had always believed that it was more than luck that the book he happened to be reading when he was taken was "Of Mice and Men." Reading about the tragic friendship had brought him a lot of comfort through some of his darker days. Good old George and Lenny.

Sam couldn't help his eyes from wandering back over to the clock. Four and a half minutes. This wasn't going to work. He needed those pills, or at least the next best thing.

He hated what he was about to do, but he had no other choice. Sam grabbed his pocketknife off of the bed and went to the bathroom. It took a minute to work up enough gall to make his next move. He brought the knife to his forearm and applied just enough pressure to draw blood.

It wasn't pure and he wasn't sure if it even had enough of a trace of demon blood in it, but he had to try.

It was enough, but it didn't last for long. A familiar knock broke his bloody feast.

He quickly pocketed the knife and pulled his sleeve down before hustling over to the door.

"They didn't have a whole lot in the way of rabbit food. I know that's what you prefer. But you'll have to live with a BLT." Dean plopped the bags of food down onto the sticky table.

Turning his attention to Sam, Dean was quick to notice a blood stain on his brother sleeve.

"What happened?" Dean asked, reaching for the arm.

Sam recoiled, cursing himself for wearing gray instead of black, "Nothing."

"Blood means something Sammy. What happened?" Dean was a bit more forceful this time as he grabbed his brother's wrist and pushed the sleeve up. Sam tried to pull away but he was still pretty weak.

Dean made note of the burn marks, old scar tissue, and what appeared to be a poorly tattooed roman numeral, but it was the clean straight bloody cut about two inches in length that received the most attention.

"Sam?"

Sam stood silent. How was he supposed to explain this? Luckily, he didn't have to.

Dean's ringing phone cut through the silence. Dean made no move for it.

"You gonna get that?"

As much as Dean wanted to let it go to voicemail, the little voice in his head begged him to check it. Without loosening his grip on Sam, he checked the phone. It was their dad.

"Dad?"

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**SORRY this took forever to put up! I'm lame. But I'll be more on top of updating. **

**PLEASE REVIEW! Let me know what you think!**


	7. Freak

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Oh I'm sorry Dean. Daddy can't come to the phone right now. He's tied up at the moment," The voice was slow and calm.

"If you know what's good for you you'll let my dad go right now you no good son of a-" Dean was interrupted by a low chuckle on the other end.

"Oh Dean! You don't know how great it is to hear your hollow threats. Now look, as fun as this little chat has been, I need to speak to Sammy."

Dean cringed as he heard his brother's nickname coming from the lips of a demon. He looked over to Sam who was focusing in on him like a bloodhound.

"I should warn you. I'm not very patient." The demon whispered. Dean could hear a sharp cry of pain in the background. He reluctantly handed the phone to his brother.

"They want to talk to you."

Sam stared at the phone like it was a poisonous snake. It was all he could do to take it from Deans hand and bring it to his ear.

"Sammy."

Sam tensed, "What do you want ?"

"That's a great question Sam, but I think you already know the answer. Now look, I'd be happy to give your father back. To be honest, he's not that much fun to play with. Dean can have him back if you agree to take his place."

Sam's mind was racing. It made him sick to think about returning to the hell he had been living but he also knew that he couldn't let his dad suffer in his place. It wasn't his dad's fault that he was a monster.

"When?" Sam asked.

"Tonight, there's an abandoned shack off the old highway. I'd say come alone but I know you're idiotic brother will be there too. And if you don't come…well I think you know what happens. I'm not too sure how your daddy would react to our…treatments."

"We'll be there."

Sam hung up the phone and looked to Dean who was waiting for an explanation.

"They want to make a switch. Dad for me."

"Hell no!"

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. A look of defeat was pasted on his face.

"It's fine Dean, it's better this way."

"Stop it Sammy! We'll find another way, we'll-"

"Dean." Sam looked up to his brother with the classic puppy dog eyes. "There's something you need to know."

Dean sat down on the bed opposite his brother.

"Dean, do you know why I was taken four years ago?"

"Because demons are evil and they've got beef with us killing them off like flies?"

"It's because…because…look I'm not like you and Dad. I've been trying to fight it my whole life even before I knew what it was. I've always felt…different."

Dean knew what Sam was talking about, his brother had always felt like a freak. When they were kids Dean would use that term jokingly but then after a few bad experiences with bullies it was pushed out of the brothers vocabulary. Dean had never seen anything odd about his brother, maybe he was a little small or he liked to read more than most kids but nothing completely out of the ordinary.

"Sammy, you aren't-"

"I'm a freak Dean. And not in a good way. I'm sure the demons have told Dad already and I'm almost positive that he already knew anyways, and that's why he was so tough on me."

"Already knew what?"

"Dean, I'm evil."

Now at this Dean had to laugh a little. It wasn't a funny conversation at all, but Sam, evil? That was funny. His baby brother was the best person he knew.

"I'm serious. Dean, the reason they took me was because of my destiny."

"Your destiny?"

"It's hard to explain. Mostly because I know that after I tell you this you will hate me."

"I could never hate you Sammy."

"Don't be so sure." Sam sighed and started his story. "That night in the nursery, Mom died because of me. The demon wasn't there for her, she just got caught in the crossfire. The demon who killed her, Azazel, was there to feed me his blood. Every where we went after that the demons were watching us, they were sneaking demon blood into my diet whether it was through school cafeteria food, diner food, or whatever other crap we were eating. Dean, I've always had this..this plague inside of me. When they told me, at first I thought they were lying, even when they showed me I didn't believe it. It wasn't until they took it away from me. Dean they cut me off, took away the blood, and it almost killed me. So, I don't know Dean, I mean, maybe this is for the best. You and dad, you'll be better off…without me."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sam was staring at him, waiting for something, anything, but Dean couldn't speak.

"I know it sounds crazy-"

"Sam, it doesn't sound crazy. It is crazy." Dean was up on his feet now, pacing in front of his little brother, "What you're telling me is that you're some kind of…demon blood junkie?" Dean as practically yelling now, "And you're actually thinking you should go back to that life?"

"Go back? Dean I'm still in it." Sam could feel Dean's eyes searching him.

"Sam. You can change, we can-"

"Dean, you're not listening, this is who I am. I can't change. It's part of the plan. It's destiny."

"Did they brainwash you too? There's always a way man, always." Dean dropped down so that he was at Sam's eye level. "We will figure this out. I'm not going to let you go back to them."

"We have to get Dad."

"And we will. But I'm not leaving you behind." Dean stood and gripped his brother's shoulder. "Understood?"

Sam understood that his brother meant well, but he also knew there was no way the three Winchesters would get out of this together. The demons had shown him his path, and as much as he hated to admit it, there was no stopping the future.

He was a monster, and he always would be. It was either that or death.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**Please Review!**


	8. The Switch

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed! I LOVE reviews :) ...hint hint...**

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam and Dean approached the old shack on foot. Dark had settled over the land and the demons were expecting them.

"Remember, we're all getting out of here safe tonight. All of us." Dean looked over to Sam who gave a solid nod.

Dean looked at the door and wasn't sure if he should knock, let himself in quietly, or barge in. The decision was made for him as John Winchester swung the door open from inside. There was a moment of shared surprise.

"Dad!" Dean was excited to see his father up and ready to go. "Let's get out of here."

John silently agreed and the three of them started back for the parked car.

"Hurry," John encouraged, "I was able to break free but it won't be long before they're after us again."

When they reached the Impala the only sound was their labored breathing. Dean and Sam were ready to pile into the car when John stopped them.

"Wait."

"Dad?" Dean questioned, "Come on we don't have much time."

"I know, but there's something I have to do first."

John looked to his younger son. He had always known something was a bit off with Sam, but he could never place it. Now he felt so stupid for not recognizing it sooner. He had been so focused on finding the demon that had killed Mary, he didn't even consider that it could have been the one that he was raising.

"I'm so sorry," John's eyes were moist and his face bloody. He slowly raised his gun and pointed it at Sam.

"Dad?" quick as lightening Dean pulled out his flask of Holy water and splashed it on his father. He was shocked when it seemed to have no effect.

"This is the way it has to be. I love you Sammy," John took one final look at Sam before closing his eyes and pulling the trigger.

Sam wasn't afraid. He knew his bloody death was inevitable. He found solace in the fact that it would be quick.

"NO!" Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. In a moment of panic he jumped, hoping to stop the bullet, but it was too late, Sam had already taken the hit.

"Dean, get in the car." John could see the demons stumbling out of the abandoned shed. "Hurry boy!"

Dean couldn't hear his fathers demands because of the gunshot echoing in his ears. It didn't take more than an instant for him to be down at his brother's side. Sam was bleeding out fast.

"Sammy! Stay with me Sammy!" Dean knew his brother had been shot in the heart but he couldn't help thinking there was a chance he was still alive.

"Dean! Get in the car!" John felt like he was shouting at the deaf. The demons were closing in on them. Using the dull end of the weapon he had just killed his youngest with, John knocked his older boy out cold. Dean had put on a lot of muscle since the last time John had carried him, but he managed to get him into the back seat of the car. And in no time they were on the road, leaving Sam's corpse in the dust.

The demons approached the scene just in time to watch the Impala speeding off in the distance.

One of the demons knelt down and checked for a pulse, "He's dead."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPSPNSPN**

Azazel looked down at operating table where the body of Sam Winchester was lying.

"If you all hadn't been so stupid, John Winchester wouldn't have escaped, and we wouldn't have a dead boy wonder on our hands," Azazel continued to gaze at the dead body. The small group of surrounding demons shuffled their feet and kept their eyes glued to the floor.

"Lucky for you, all he needs is a heart transplant, and of course a little dark magic," Azazel turned his focus to the demon nearest him, "unlucky for you, he's going to need your heart."

A bit of screaming, and a lot of blood and smoking out took place before Azazel thrust his hand into Sam's chest and ripped out his heart. He threw it on the ground and replaced it with the still beating heart of the unlucky demon.

A few choice Latin words and Sam was gasping for air.

"Shhh, it's all going to be ok." Azazel cooed.

Everything seemed upside down and inside out. Hadn't he just been dead? In Hell? Or was it Heaven? Everything was so confusing. His throat felt sticky and his mouth tasted like iron, but he managed to whisper the only word that had ever brought him comfort.

"Dean?"

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Dean woke up tied to a chair. His head was pounding and he could feel a little stream of blood trickling down the side of his face.

"Drink." John placed a glass of water on his son's lips.

Instead of sipping the water, Dean spat blood into it. The man before him was no longer his father.

"Dean, I know what you're thinking." John stood before his son. He couldn't stand the way the boy's eyes were searing into his soul. "You think I'm some sort of monster."

"No." Dean growled, "You're worse than what we hunt."

"You don't understand. I didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." Dean looked away, unable to stare at his brother's killer any longer.

Silence filled the air. Dean sat stewing in his emotions. He shifted between anger, sadness, rage, and utter despair. John tried to mask his feelings by mapping out their next drive and bandaging the bloody little stump that once was his right ring finger. About fifteen minutes passed before John finally spoke again.

"I want to put some distance between us and this place tonight." John said as he folded up the map, "Can I untie you now?"

Dean remained silent.

"Dean. You don't understand what Sam was, he-"

"He was my brother," Dean choked out, "and he was your son."

John knew he couldn't reason with his son but he couldn't stop the rage that was boiling inside of him, "Do you think it made me happy to shoot my own son in cold blood? Do you honestly think I enjoyed that Dean? Well think again! You and Sammy have always been my everything. But Hell will have to swallow me whole before I'll allow their evil plans to destroy this world."

Dean looked up to his dad, a bit unsure where this conversation was going.

"The demons needed Sam. They needed him alive so that he could be a vessel. And I couldn't let that happen."

"A vessel?"

"His whole life they were preparing him-"

"-with the demon blood." Dean finished.

"What did Sam tell you?"

"Just that he was hooked on the stuff. Demons did it to him."

"Did he tell you why?"

Dean shook his head in the negative, "He just said some crap about destiny."

"Dean," John lowered his voice, "look, I hate this just as much as you do. But I saw no other way. Go ahead and hate me, you can't hate me any more than I already hate myself. But I wasn't going to sit on the sidelines and watch my son become…become the devil."

"You're insane."

"I wish it was that simple," John sighed, "now look I'll explain the rest once we're on the road."

"I'm not going with you."

"Dean-"

"I'm not going with you," Dean repeated, anger dripping off of every word.

John took the next five minutes to grab all of Dean's personal effects from the car and lay them on the motel bed. Next to Deans things John tossed a phone.

"Number five on the speed dial. If you ever want to talk."

John decided not to cut the rope binding his son, Dean was fifty miles passed pissed and he didn't want their last few minutes together spent beating the crap out of each other. He knew Dean would get out soon enough, he had tied him down loose and sloppy.

As soon as John closed the door behind him, Dean lost it. He let the tears run freely. Sammy was gone. Again.

John climbed into the Impala and let a few tears loose himself. He just wanted his family back, Mary, Dean, and Sam. But those days were long gone. His hands started to tremble as he remembered the look on Sam's face right before he died. Like he knew it was coming. Poor Sammy, the kid had never been able to catch a break, and as much as he hated to think about what had just happened, John knew that he had done the right thing. He had stopped the apocalypse from being jumpstarted. He had taken the only true vessel of Lucifer out of commission. He just wished Dean could understand. But then his older boy never could think clearly when it came to Sam. He was so blinded by love and the need to protect him that he would never consider that maybe it wasn't Sam who needed the protecting. This time it was the world who needed protection from the harm Sam could inflict upon it.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Dean?" Sam asked again when he received no answer.

"Oh Sammy, it's so good to have you back." Azazel smiled and watched as tears forged their way down the sides of Sam's dirt stained face. "Now, try not to move. This might pinch a bit."

Sam winced as he felt needles being stabbed into both arms, "What?"

"You lost a lot of blood, luckily we've got blood to spare." Azazel looked around the room at the bloody demons on the ground.

Sam could feel his veins pulsating as the demon blood rushed into him.

"Just like old times, right Sammy?" Azazel watched as color started to return to Sam's skin. After a minute or two Azazel ripped the needles out and laughed as Sam cried out in pain.

"Can't be giving you too much too fast," Azazel signaled for the last two live demons in the room, "Take him to his room."

Room? Sam had been expecting a cage. Maybe that was what they were calling them now. He could barely keep his eyes open as the two demons practically dragged him out of the operating room, down the hall, and into a comfortably furnished room. Sam was done with fighting to stay awake. As soon as the demons left, Sam passed out on the bed.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please Review! Let me know what you think :)**


	9. Vessel

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Sam. Not Dean. Nothing. *tear tear***

**Thank you so much to everyone who is following, favoriting, and of course...reviewing! **

**Sorry this one is short...I'll work on it.**

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

It didn't take long for Dean to work his way out of the ropes. As soon as he was free he grabbed his things and made his way to the first car in the parking lot. After a few minutes the engine roared to life and Dean was speeding down the road back to the site of his little brothers murder.

He had a tiny flame of hope burning inside of him. Maybe, just maybe the demons would leave the body behind and Dean could get someone to work some hoodoo magic on it, or at the very least he could give his brother a proper burial.

When he pulled up to the scene there was nothing but a puddle of blood. Dean dropped to his knees and sobbed. His dad wasn't around, there was no need to play tough. When he opened his eyes he noticed a set of tire tracks that didn't belong to the Impala or his newly acquired vehicle. They pulled right up to the blood.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam awoke to the smell of bacon and blood.

"Good morning Sammy!" Azazel smiled and watched Sam slowly rise and scoot as far away as possible, "hungry? Thirsty?"

Sam's eyes wandered to the breakfast tray, complete with a mug of demon blood.

"Go-juice is nice and warm. It's fresh."

Sam could feel his senses perk up. His body begged for food, and as much as he hated to admit it, blood. But he wasn't going to give in. Not this time.

"No. No, get me out of here."

"Sammy! Now why would you want out? You've got it made in the shade my friend. Now, I know we've been…a little rough with you. The typical break um down to rebuild them stronger. But I think you've had enough of that. I'm a nice guy. Really."

Sam began checking his surroundings, looking for possible exits and escape routes. But his mind was clouded as he continued to breath in the scent of demon blood.

"I hate to admit this but, I've had a change in plans. See things were supposed to go down different than they are. Battle of the special children, opening the gates of hell, yada yada yada. Turns out, things are starting a bit sooner than expected. The apocalypse is just around the corner and I need you ready."

"Ready for what?" Sam asked, mostly to keep his mind off of the demon blood.

"Ready to say yes."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Bobby?"

"Who's askin?" Bobby asked as he took a swig of beer. It was always a little unnerving to get a call on his emergency line.

"Dean Winchester."

Bobby smiled, "Took ya long enough, ya idgit!"

"Yeah, look Bobby, I'm in Raton. How soon can you get here?"

"How bad is it?"

"Remember Sam?" Dean asked, choking a bit as he said his brothers name.

"Of course, Dean," Bobby paused and an arrow of hope hit his heart, "Did you find him?"

"In a way. Look, I really need you."

"I'm there." Bobby clicked his phone off and grabbed his coat. It wasn't often that Dean Winchester asked for help. Bobby knew that whatever Dean was up against, it was big. Luckily, the seasoned hunter was only a few hours away. He had just finished up a case of his own in Monument.

Dean went back to the motel to wait for Bobby. He had just about worn a hole through the carpet with all his pacing when he heard a knock at the door.

Through the peephole he saw a much needed friendly face. The door swung open and Dean nearly took Bobby down with his hug.

"Good to see you too," Bobby whispered.

Once inside, Dean brought Bobby up to speed.

"Balls."

"Bobby," Dean stood and began pacing again, "I don't know what to do."

"Now you said he was shot through the heart?"

"No mistaking that." Dean muttered as the scene was played back in his mind.

"Then why did they take the body?" Bobby asked, more to himself as his mind raced. "You can't torture someone who's already dead."

"A vessel." Dean whispered.

"What?"

"They took him to be a vessel. That's what dad said they were preparing him for. Bobby what do you know about human vessels?" Dean was staring down the hunter with new found intensity.

"You mean like for a possession? Dean, there ain't no rhyme or reason to how a demon decides who to possess. It's just the nearest able body, as far as I know."

"Yeah, but what about for a special demon? Like someone high up? Would they need a special body?" Dean was trying to think back to everything his dad had taught him about demons.

"It's possible I guess, I'd need to do some research. This ain't exactly your run of the mill case."

"I know," Dean sighed, "It's my brother."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**Please Review! I really really really love reviews :) So let me know what you think!**


	10. Paradise

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Ok this is a little shorty and then 2 more chapters and it's done :) **

**PLEASE review :)**

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

THREE MONTHS LATER

"I'm going to give you one more chance to tell me where he is before I send you back where you belong." Dean circled the demon.

"I already told you, Disneyland." The demon had a weak smirk on his face in an attempt to mask the pain that Dean Winchester was putting him though.

"Alright, I've had enough," Dean began the exorcism and it wasn't long before the demon was screaming for mercy.

"Ok! Ok I'll talk!"

Dean paused and waiting for his answer.

"He's in Hawaii."

"I thought I told you," Dean said as he poured a bucket of holy water on the bloody demon, "that's enough."

Dean looked down at the page to start the exorcism where he had left off. He was still pretty new at the exorcising thing.

"Fine don't believe me. But that's where they have him."

"Hawaii?"

"The island of Kauai… to be specific."

"You gotta be kidding me. Why there?"

"They've got their reasons."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't. But it's the only shot you have."

"Does the location have to do with the whole vessel thing?" Dean asked, hoping to get more information. Bobby had filled him in quite a bit with all he research he'd been doing on it. Apparently, if an angel was going to possess a body it needed the person's permission. But they still couldn't figure out why demons would be helping an angel find a vessel.

"It's almost funny, how little you know." The demon laughed.

"Well, I think we're done here." Dean's anger was boiling up and he was just about ready to explode. He finished the exorcism and returned to his motel.

"Hawaii?!"

"I know Bobby, but it's my only shot." Dean rubbed a few specks of blood off of his stubble covered cheek.

"I don't even know what to say to that."

"Yeah, look I haven't had a lead in months now. I gotta believe this is something."

"I know….just," Bobby sighed, "be careful. Ya idjit."

"Thanks Bobby."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"This doesn't mean things have changed." Sam said as he took another gulp of blood, "I'm not giving in to your little plan."

"Little?" Azazel laughed, "Sammy how many times do I have to explain this. You have been chosen since before you can even imagine. It's an honor."

"To become Lucifer? The Devil?" Sam grunted, "Yeah, I don't think so."

"I'm not worried. You'll come around." Azazel gazed at the tropical surroundings, "If you refuse to be bribed with all this beauty and with promises of prosperity, wealth, women, and more… we have another way."

Sam's heart skipped a beat, "You said you were through with torture."

"And you trusted me?" Azazel's eyes flashed yellow.

Sam's body went rigid, "You said my body can't handle any more physical trauma. There's nothing you can do to me-"

"I know that." Azazel smiled, "But I'm sure there's something we can do to Dean that will change your mind."

"Leave him out of this," Sam threw his cup to the ground and stood. His voice was bold and his eyes flashed black for a moment.

"It's too late for that Sammy, he's on a plane to our quaint little island right now."

"There's no way that's possible." Sam said, only half sure of himself. Dean refused to fly. There's no way he'd make it on a five hour flight over the ocean.

"Ahh, but with love all things are possible," Azazel said with a laugh, "He should be here in the next day or two. After all, it's a small island."

Sam shot Azazel a dirty look before storming off into the trees. They were set up in an abandoned plantation worker shack tucked away in the mountains. It was on private property, away from the public eye. Sam knew the little hut had a two mile radius around it of demon patrol, making sure that Sam didn't wander too far. They were trying to give him the illusion of freedom but Sam had seen then hiding in the trees on his morning jogs.

He'd been promised everything, from having his family reunited to raising a family of his own with Jess. Kingdoms, riches, armies, land, money, fame, etc... It didn't matter what they said he would get in return for being the vessel of Satan. Sam knew that right was right and wrong was wrong.

He had already crossed the line with the demon blood and it was too late to go back on that now, but he wasn't going to make another mistake.

He would never say yes.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

As soon as the seatbelt sign went dark Dean was up and off of the plane in record time. He'd probably knocked down a few people in the process, but he was past caring. Once outside, the humidity hit him hard and he was forced to take of his long sleeve button up and proceed with only his plain grey shirt.

It took a few hours to build back up his supply of weapons, as he hadn't been permitted to take any with him on board or in a check baggage. The airlines were so uptight when it came to weapons. But soon he had a little arsenal lying on a motel bed in front of him. He grabbed a few items and a photo of Sam before heading out on his search.


End file.
